chinese
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They toil in fields
They mine the coal
They slave away to build forts
They put food on our table
While we eat and walk like kings
They bend on one knee
Fan our heads
Feed us our daily grapes
Almond Eyes,
searching for a piece of herself,
in a round-eyed town.
Her identity uncertain,
To the boy who said
“Sorry, but you look really Chinese”:
Well.
Hate to break it to you,
but I am Chinese.
Once, a boy goaded on by his friends
yelled “BORDERHOPPER” in my face.
(I must have a very large stride, then,
to have hopped the Pacific Ocean.)
To be fair, it was middle school.
Taylor
Talkative, weird, funny, cuddlier
Daughter of Jim and Tammy
Lover of Chinese, Pizza, Animals, and German Shepherds
Who feels happy around animals, and at Warped Tour
Sad at Funerals
